


Madness or Devotion

by ultradaniblonde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandonment, Abuse, Age Difference, Angst, Attempted Kidnapping, Caring John Winchester, Confessions, Dean Patching You Up, Dean Tackling You, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Ice Queen, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Loneliness, Marshmallows, Neglect, Overprotective Dean Winchester, Patching Dean Up, Secrets, Siblings, Slow Burn, Snowball Fight, Teen Dean Winchester, Tickling, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wearing Dean's Jacket, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-08-24 19:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 38
Words: 18,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16646159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultradaniblonde/pseuds/ultradaniblonde
Summary: John finds you in the woods tied to a tree. Do you fit into the Winchester's lives and can any of you be saved?





	1. Chapter 1

You sit in the snow bound to a tree. Fluffy flakes drift passed your hooded eyes. The ground is wet and cold against your bare legs. Shifting slightly trying to find warmth, you tug uselessly at the rope coiled tightly around your hands ending in knots around the trunk. Curling into yourself, you shiver as the snow continues to blanket the silent forest. Eternal darkness gives way to a blinding light. It reflects off the snow casting a bluish ethereal tint to the woodland. Wind cuts through you and your body begins to spasm. You tuck your chin to your chest in defiance as if to remind yourself you are still alive despite nature’s best effort. A howl would pass your lips if your throat weren’t raw from screaming. Cries for help then sobs before succumbing to frenzied raving. The blinding light is replaced with footsteps crunching loudly against the newly fallen snow. “Jesus,” a man whispers. The dull thud of a machete against wood reverberates in your bones and you wince with each impact. The restraint slackens and you finally pull your hands into your lap, fingers too stiff to unravel the coarse rope digging into your wrists. 

John stalks through the forest slowly sweeping his black military grade flashlight back and forth. As fresh snow covers the ground, ice crystals glitter catching the light. The forest is silent, even the wind hushed as it cuts through his lined leather jacket. His footsteps crunch loudly in the snow when the flashlight unveils an impossibly still form. Her skin is like marble, smooth and alabaster with an almost translucent quality. Long bare legs splayed irreverently in the snow.  Willowy arms secured roughly with thick braided rope. John’s eyes flicker over delicate wrists bleeding and raw from twisting against the knots. Slumped against the tree, thick black wavy hair covers her face and spills down her back. Raven locks the only contrast to her ivory skin and frosted backdrop. “Jesus,” he mutters realizing the young female is dressed in only a ragged t-shirt. In three quick moves his machete slices the rope immediately cutting the restraints. The woman’s hands fall to her lap and she sits listlessly, rope still twisted around her wrists.

John quickly removes his leather jacket before squatting down and draping it over your shoulders. He extends an arm under your knees, the other bracing your back before lifting you. Heavy in his arms, he takes labored breaths before beginning the trek back to the car with no light to guide the way.

The dull ache of cold sets in making your exposed skin throb in pain. Eyes drooping you feel a heavy warm jacket draped around your shoulders before you are lifted off of the freezing ground. Darkness pulls you under in an icy black grip, a dizzy promise of eternal sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Searing heat scorches your skin as you are plunged into boiling water. A scream rips from your throat, unbridled pain and agony released from your subconscious. Your body convulses and a shriek escapes your lips, a resounding cry that shakes the walls of the small house.  

A young child watches animated characters on a small television screen before covering his ears and shutting his eyes. “It’s okay Sammy,” a deep voice consoles, “Dad’s helping her,” he says placing a large hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “It sounds like she is dying, Dean,” Sam’s fragile voice insists, one eye peeking open to gawp at the animals singing. The wailing subsides and Sam rests his hands on the armchair mesmerized by the glow of the television. “She isn’t dying,” Dean asserts. Sam is oblivious to his haunted expression and memories that shutter through Dean's mind.

After submerging you in lukewarm water, John tests your extremities. Once warmth has returned to your body, he dresses you in an oversized sweater and thick sweatpants before laying you gently on the bed. He heaves a heavy blanket over your lifeless form. The room is small with threadbare carpet and peeling wallpaper. He sighs lowering himself into a desk chair before rubbing his forehead.

The sound of rustling wakes you and your eyes flutter open quickly scanning your surroundings. You flinch when you push yourself up from the mountain of blankets, pain shooting through your forearms and the torn skin of your palms still tender. A small boy stands next to your bed. He is young with shaggy brown hair and large brown eyes. “You are alive!” he says in disbelief. “Dean said Dad was helping you. He said he found you in the snow,” he continues.

“Sammy?” a booming voice calls distantly from behind the closed bedroom door. “I shouldn’t be here. I thought you might want this,” he says pushing a fleece blanket towards you. You take the blanket noticing the characters match his faded pajamas. Seconds pass, “Thank you,” you respond hoarsely, surprised your voice is just a whisper. “No problem,” he answers already making his way towards the door. “I am Sam,” he says with a smile reaching for the doorknob. The bedroom door swings open and your eyes harden at the young man who enters.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s vibrant green eyes settle on Sam. Dressed in a red and black plaid shirt, hair brushed to the side and stubble gracing his tanned jaw, he opens his mouth to scold his younger brother. "Dean! She is awake!" Sam exclaims. Awareness seizes Dean and he tears his exasperated expression away from Sam finally noticing you. Sitting in the large bed, black hair cascades down your shoulders. A healthy glow emanates from your bronzed skin and dark brown eyes with thick long lashes stare back at him. Dean clears his throat awkwardly; surprise and embarrassment stain his cheeks. “Morning,” Dean says distractedly, his eyes finding the corners of the room. “We will let you get some rest,” he insists reaching for Sam.

“How long have I been asleep?” you ask with raspy voice.

“Two days,” Sam immediately answers.

You shift under the blankets and slowly stand. The large sweatpants hang off of your hips and you run your fingers over the worn cotton sweatshirt. “I think I am done resting,” you say absently. You stare at Dean waiting for him to show you the rest of the house, but he doesn’t move.

“You must be thirsty and hungry. Come on. We can have breakfast together!” Sam says energetically reaching for your hand.  Sam leads you to a tidy kitchen with a small breakfast nook. You sit in a chair cross-legged watching him prepare his breakfast. Not yet tall enough, he drags a step stool to the refrigerator, grabs a box of cereal, and steps down in a practiced motion. You smile as he carefully pours the cereal into his bowl before taking the seat next to you. You don’t notice Dean until he sets a tall glass of water down on the table. “Thank you,” you respond, engrossed as Sam brings spoonful after spoonful of rainbow colored cereal to his mouth.

“What kind of cereal is that?” you ask gently.

“Fruity Pebbles. It is my favorite,” he answers swinging his legs. “What’s your favorite?” he asks.

“I don’t have one,” you say softly taking a long sip, the water soothes your rough throat and you smile, amused with Sam’s inquisitive nature. 

“What about a name? Got one of those?” Dean asks leaning against the refrigerator with his arms crossed over his chest. Sam stops eating, his eyes darting between you and Dean. You notice the worry in his face as he senses Dean’s anger. You give him a reassuring smile before saying, “My name is Amor. You must be Dean and Sam,” gazing openly at the two brothers.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam scrunches his nose, “Aye-moor” he pronounces incorrectly. You smile, “Close. You have to roll the ‘r’ at the end,” you say patiently, repeating your name slowly. 

“R-r-r-r,” Sam begins trilling before succumbing to a fit of laughter. “Try it Dean!” he insists. Dean rolls his eyes and walks out of the kitchen. “I will practice,” Sam assures you. He picks up his cereal bowl and carries it to the sink. You watch him with concerned eyes as he retrieves the step stool and grabs a sponge. While you try and guess his age, he places the clean bowl in the dish rack and asks, “Want to see my room?” before putting the step stool back.

“Sure,” you answer with a smile. Sam leads you down a hall and you walk passed a study. A sofa bed sits in the center with clothes and books strewn across every surface. As you approach Sam’s room, you realize you are sleeping in the only other room in the house, the master bedroom. Sam rummages under his bed and pulls out a lidded box. He begins to show you his rock collection and launches into a lengthy history. As you listen patiently you feel a sharp pain in your chest. Sam’s curiosity and friendly nature is the result of having only his brother for company. When he finishes describing how he acquired the last geode, you glance out the window and notice a thick blanket of fresh snow.

“Sam, would you like to play in the snow?” you ask mischievously.

“YES!” he shouts standing quickly, running to his closet pulling out his boots.

You laugh at his enthusiasm, “I need to find clothes. Give me maybe thirty minutes?” you ask as you stand hoping you don’t have to resort to asking Dean for help. 

He looks out the window and then at the clock on his nightstand. “Okay. Thirty minutes,” he agrees.

After making your way back to the master bedroom, you close the door behind you with a sigh. Straightening up the bed and placing the folded blankets on the desk, you notice a brown shopping bag underneath. As you sort through the clothes, you flip over the price tags wondering if you should remove them. With only twenty minutes left you rip off the tags and carry fresh clothes to the bathroom. The powerful spray of the showerhead becomes hot as you locate a clean towel and quickly strip mindful of the time.


	5. Chapter 5

Your skin flushes as hot water pelts your body alleviating the ache in your shoulders. In minutes you are wiping down the mirror before aggressively towel drying your hair. With no blow dryer or brush, you run your fingers through your locks trying to untangle the knots. You stare at your reflection; tousled waves and sable eyes stare back at you. Pushing away your unexpected fondness for Sam, you dress relishing the feel of fabric against your skin. The jeans slide comfortably over your hips buttoning high at the waist. You layer a plain gray cotton t-shirt under a thick black knit sweater and pull on a pair of socks. Ambling into the room, you lace the waterproof boots you noticed earlier, drying your hair one more time before searching for Sam. 

With two minutes to spare you walk towards Sam’s room stopping abruptly when you find him in the study. “Ready Sam?” you ask. Sam stands with his jacket slightly askew staring at the ground.

“We aren’t supposed to leave the house,” Dean says unapologetically, lying on his bed reading a magazine. 

“We aren’t leaving the house,” Sam whines. Dean sets the magazine down on his chest staring at the ceiling with an annoyed expression. “They aren’t my rules, Sammy. Dad isn’t here and John would kill me if anything happened to you,” Dean responds with a trace of resentment. You watch Dean carefully before looking at Sam. 

“Dean is right, Sam,” you say evenly. Dean sits up confused you agree with him. “If anything happened to you …” you begin ruefully. Sam turns his head towards the wall avoiding your gaze, trying to hold back tears. “How about this? Backyard and we check in every hour,” you propose staring at Dean purposefully. Dean looks at you skeptically before glancing at Sam his eyes softening slightly.

“Every half an hour,” Dean counters giving you a stern expression.

“Deal,” you agree. Sam smiles, straightening his jacket before reaching for the zipper. You kneel down to help him close his coat. “You know, you could come with,” you tell Dean over your shoulder.

“I am not a little kid,” Dean shoots back picking up his magazine. Sam’s smile falters and you give him an exaggerated wink. “Then you don’t mind if I borrow your jacket,” you say slyly picking it up as you and Sam rush out of the study. “Come on Sam. Let’s have a snowball fight,” you shout slipping the coat over your shoulders, reaching for the doorknob.


	6. Chapter 6

Fluffy white snow coats a neglected patio set and lone oak tree enclosed by a high wooden fence. The jacket smells like soap and leather, the same scent of the jacket draped over your shoulders three days ago. Suddenly, you are back in the forest. Endless night suffocates you as the wind slices your skin like a million cuts. The dizzy sensation of falling claws at you until a ball of snow hits you in the chest. Snowflakes stick to your sweater and you look up jolted to the present. From behind the tree trunk, Sam hurls another snowball at you. You dodge while laughing and scoop up a handful snow.

After chasing after each other around the backyard, you collapse onto the ground. Staring up at the cloudless cerulean sky, you catch your breath while making snow angels. You decide it is time to check in with Dean and poke your heads through the door only to find Dean watching television. “We are checking in!” you shout. Dean acknowledges you with a mumble and you quickly close the door. “Snowman?” you ask and the two of you work on making three large balls of snow. When you finally stack them, you turn to Sam. “We can try and find rocks for the eyes,” you encourage. Sam’s eyes brighten and before you can stop him he races inside. You cringe at the thought of the snow melting on the floor and instead tell yourself that counts as checking in. Sam returns minutes later with a hand full of rocks from his collection. “Are you sure you want to use these?” you ask hesitantly. When he nods you stick them on the snowman and smile. 

“He needs arms,” Sam insists and you begin looking for branches.

xxx 

John stands next to Dean as they both stare out the window. “I told Sam we aren’t technically allowed outside,” Dean says defensively.

“It’s alright Dean,” John says with a half-smile. “Have you ever seen Sam so happy?” John asks.

“No. I haven’t,” Dean answers.

Minutes pass as they watch you compare tree branches before breaking one and inserting them in the snowman.

“What are we going to do about the girl?” Dean inquires.

“Nobody reported her missing and if she had someone to call she would have done it by now,” John replies.

“I mean… she can’t stay with us,” Dean says shocked.

“We’ll see,” John says vaguely before stepping outside, ending the conversation.

“Sammy!” John shouts smiling at the young boy.

You freeze. The voice of your dreams and your nightmares thunders behind you. Sam runs towards the house. “Dad!” he yells. You turn cautiously watching John ruffle Sam’s hair. “Hi Amor,” he says, alarm coursing through your body


	7. Chapter 7

John stands with his hands on Sammy’s shoulders staring at you. You are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Rose colors the apples of your cheeks adding to your luminous complexion. Your onyx glossy waves float in the wind revealing endless obsidian eyes and plush pink lips. Realizing both of you have fallen silent he clears his throat. “Let’s get the two of you inside,” he says reaching for the door. He holds it open and Sam barges into the house. Before he can traipse through the kitchen, you shout “Sam! Boots!” bending down to help him. Sam’s chatter becomes white noise as you unlace his boots trying to calm your galloping heart. John is tall with broad shoulders and a salt and pepper beard. His mischievous brown eyes glimmer alluringly and you notice a small dimple when he smiles.

 _Hunter_ a voice hisses grating against your ears as you unlace your own boots. You shudder and you slip off Dean’s jacket before handing it to him. “Thank you,” you say softly with downcast eyes.

“Sam, why don’t you go put on some dry clothes?” John suggests. Sam smiles at you before running to his room in his socks. Your breathing is shallow and you wish you had been dismissed as well.

“We should probably talk,” John says taking a seat at the kitchen table. You beg your legs to move and walk towards the table sitting cross-legged waiting for him to speak. “I did some digging. Nobody has reported you missing. Is there anyone you want us to call?” he asks watching you carefully as he brings a beer bottle to his lips. 

You shake your head, “No. I lived with my grandmother. After she died I fell in with the wrong crowd …” you trail off waiting for his reaction. 

From across the kitchen Dean scoffs. “Wrong crowd? You get busted for breaking and entering with the wrong crowd! You don’t get tied to a tree half naked in the …”

“That’s enough Dean,” John interrupts and you shiver at the timbre of his voice. He misinterprets the response and says, “You are safe now. The boys and I travel a lot. My job,” he explains. “You are welcome to come with if you would like,” he says gazing at you. The energy in the room is almost unbearable. Even the chill from being outdoors does nothing to temper the burning inside of you. 

You shut your eyes. _Hunter_ the voice screeches again louder this time.

“Can I think about it?” you ask faintly.

“No!” a small voice shouts. Your eyes fly open and you see Sam standing in the kitchen. “You can’t leave! Today was the most fun I have had ever! You can’t leave me,” he yells. 

“Sam,” you admonish before he runs towards his room. You take a deep breath and glance at John. He nods and you climb out of the kitchen chair making your way to Sam’s room.


	8. Chapter 8

“Dad, how could you ask her to come with us? She could be possessed or a ghoul!” Dean shouts. 

“Keep your voice down!” John orders. “You think I would leave her here without testing her?” John rages. He pulls out a folded piece of paper and tosses it on the table before walking out the backdoor. Dean unfolds the sheet his eyes skimming the text.

**Amor Miranda was born on October 24 th 1999 to Esperanza Miranda who died giving birth. Custody of Amor will pass to her only living relative, Paciencia Miranda, her grandmother. The biological father is unknown as Esperanza arrived at Mercy Hospital experiencing hallucinations and was immediately sedated. **

xxx

“Sam?” you call easing the door open. You find him on his bed and approach him cautiously sitting on the edge. Seconds pass before you ask, “Sam, do you remember earlier today when Dean said we aren’t supposed to leave the house?” in a gentle tone.

“Yeah” Sam says begrudgingly.

“Well to be honest, I was upset because I really wanted to go outside, but I didn’t raise my voice did I?” you inquire.

“No, you didn’t,” Sam admits.

“Instead Dean and I compromised. We talked and reached an agreement,” you urge.

“I don’t see what that has to do with you leaving,” Sam says angrily. Sam finally turns towards you. “I don’t want you to leave. Dean never wants to play and Dad is never here,” he says miserably.

You gesture for him to move over and lay on the edge of the bed. You stroke his soft hair closing your eyes. Sam’s loneliness pierces your heart and you know you should, but you can’t leave him.

 _Perdóname_ , you beg silently. 

“I am going to stay Sam, but I want you to promise you won’t raise your voice again,” you tell him sternly.

He opens his mouth to object. “You can be mad,” you interrupt. “It is okay to be mad, but I want you to use your words and try and compromise,” you insist.

He nods sheepishly. “You will stay?” he asks uncertainly.

“Yes. I will stay,” you assure him. You continue to stroke his hair and as minutes pass he is lulled to sleep.  

The door creaks and you are immediately alert. Sam’s chest continues to rise and fall and your eyes land on John Winchester. “Sorry,” he mouths. You stand and pull the blanket over Sam careful not to wake him. John closes the door behind the two of you and you stand in the hall.

“I told Sam I would stay,” you say nervously. John slides his hands into his pockets. “That’s good because we are leaving. Tomorrow afternoon,” John informs you.

“Okay,” you say with a sigh.

“Get some rest Amor,” he says and you walk towards the master bedroom wondering if you will ever sleep peacefully again.


	9. Chapter 9

Shadows dance in the corners of your room and you stare at the ceiling unable to sleep. The bedroom door opens and awareness floods your senses and robs you of breath. 

“Morning!” Sam shouts.

“Sam!” you rebuke as you sit up.

“I thought we could eat breakfast together again,” he says innocently.

You rub your eyes realizing trying to sleep is useless. “Alright. Lets go eat breakfast,” you say wearily.

Dean, drinking a cup of coffee, immediately leaves as soon as you and Sam walk into the kitchen. You set a box of cereal in front of Sam hoping he didn’t notice. Sam eats and the two of you speculate wildly about the new house. “Let’s get you packed,” you tell him after rinsing his bowl and placing it in the dish rack.

You sit on the floor while Sam pulls a canvas duffel bag out of the closet. You unzip the bag and pick through its contents noticing dirty stained clothes. “Sam, when is the last time someone washed these clothes?” you ask gently.

“I don’t know,” Sam says reaching under his bed for his rock collection.

“Why don’t you go grab the rocks from the snowman and I will go put these clothes in the washer?” you suggest.

“Okay,” he agrees pulling on his coat.

You walk to the study and find Dean sorting through his belongings. “I am going to do laundry. Do you have anything that needs to be washed?” you offer. You are met with silence and when it becomes obvious Dean isn’t going to answer, you turn to leave and then stop. “I know you don’t want me here, but please don’t take it out on Sam. He needs someone to look after him, but he needs his brother too,” you say before leaving.

Hours later the laundry is folded, bags are packed and the three of you wait for John. Dean teaches Sam a card game while you silently sip coffee. Dean hasn’t acknowledged you, but he has stopped ignoring Sam. The front door opens and you grip the mug tightly.

“Sam? Dean?” John calls out.

He walks into the kitchen, sees Sam and Dean playing cards and smiles. “Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes Sir,” Dean responds. You wash the mug while Dean packs up the cards. Three duffel bags sit in the entryway and you fold your arms over your chest preparing for the frigid weather.  “Amor, I got you something,” John says pulling a coat out of a brown shopping bag. It is a knee-length army green parka with fake fur lining the hood. He helps you slip it on and you immediately savor its soft warmth. “Thank you,” you say faintly and John wordlessly nods.

“Ready, Sam?” you ask grabbing your bags before taking his hand and walking out the front door.


	10. Chapter 10

John locks the front door while Dean loads the bags and you help Sam into the cabin of the black truck. Your toasty jacket envelops you as farmland passes by and you fall sleep. Sam rests his head on your lap and you stroke his hair before drifting off again.

The sun rises and you wake noticing row after row of houses. “We’re here,” John announces as you eye a two-story home. “No way!” Dean exclaims jumping out of the truck. Sam stands next to you as you watch Dean rapturously inspect a sleek black car. His enthusiasm is infectious and you find yourself smiling. “I had Bobby drop her off. You are going to need something to drive to school,” John says. Dean freezes and your smile evaporates. John glares at Dean and Dean clenches his jaw.

“I want to go to school!” Sam shouts.

“You aren’t going,” John orders.

“That’s not fair!” Sam yells.

“Sam, we talked about this,” you warn with a stern expression. Sam gazes at you, “I would like to go to school,” he tells John. John looks at Sam and then at you. “I will think about it,” he answers. John unloads the truck and mumbles a few words to Dean before departing. Seconds after John pulls out of view, Dean says, “I am going to grab a few things,” fingering the car keys leaving you and Sam to explore the house.

You walk through the entire house and pick out your rooms. Sam jumps on his bed for fifteen minutes before you start unpacking. Dean returns with groceries and you help him organize the pantry while Sam watches television. “This town doesn’t look that bad. I saw a diner, a movie theater and a library,” he volunteers.

“Did you see the school?” you ask immediately regretting the question.

“Yeah, I saw it,” Dean says.

“I am going to go unpack. You got this right?” he asks not waiting for your response.

A deep rumbling in the driveway tells you John is home. He walks into the kitchen and you immediately notice his disheveled state. You are amazed he is still awake. Realizing you are staring, you turn to grab more cans. Pressure builds inside of you as you realize John is standing right behind you. You close your eyes and his mouth hovers above your ear inhaling the scent of your hair. Time stops and he pulls you against his warm chest. You tilt your head back when he caresses your soft skin, rubbing his hands up your sides. When he pins you against the sink, you arch against him desperate for his touch and a groan escapes his lips. 

“Dad?” Sam calls and in an instant John is on the opposite side of the kitchen. 

“Hey Sammy,” John answers.

“Want to see my room?” Sam asks.

“Sure,” John says following Sam out of the kitchen. 

You stand at the kitchen sink desperately trying to catch your breath. As you gaze out the kitchen window you notice your reflection and the glowing blue eyes that stare back at you.  


	11. Chapter 11

A jumble of questions and emotions plague you all night. Sam’s outburst conjured memories of a lonely childhood, a little girl with only her grandmother for company. You decide to talk to John, but it does nothing to alleviate your unease. As you make your way to the study, you notice Sam and Dean’s rooms are empty. “Come in,” John responds after you knock. You slowly close the door before acknowledging him. He wears a short sleeve V-neck t-shirt revealing tanned forearms. His salt and pepper beard is fuller and with black glasses he is effortlessly handsome.

You wet your lips, “I think Sam should go to school,” you say hesitantly.

“And why is that?” John asks.

“He should be around other kids,” you continue.

You think of Sam and try and calm the furious beating of your heart. “Okay,” John concedes. “I will tell him when he gets home,” he says. You press your lips into a thin line.

“I am going to see if the diner in town needs help,” you tell John.

“I see,” John says before lifting his gaze from his papers and slowly walking towards you. “Is that what you want?” he asks huskily.

“It is,” you whisper lowering your gaze afraid your eyes are burning blue. You quickly close your eyes when he tilts your jaw up and rubs his lips against yours. His beard scratches your skin as he slowly tastes your mouth. Your legs weaken and he holds you against his chest exploring your mouth with his tongue. His hands rub your back and you shiver when his fingers graze your breast. You whimper and he chuckles trailing his lips down your neck. The front door opens and you immediately freeze. John clears his throat and reluctantly releases you before opening the door.  “Hey Sammy,” John greets distantly. Minutes pass before you walk towards the kitchen and find it covered in shopping bags. “What’s all this?” you inquire.

“School supplies!” Sam shouts excitedly.

“School supplies?” you ask.

“Yeah! Dad said I could go,” Sam says proudly.

“Oh he did?” you question staring at John with an incredulous smile.  

“I told Dean to take Sam to buy a few things,” he says before winking at you.

“Come on, Sam. Why don’t you show me your new stuff,” you tell him shaking your head in disbelief.

“We bought pencils, crayons, notebooks and a ruler,” Sam says emptying the bag on his bed. “I am so excited for you,” you tell him with a bright smile.

“Sam, you can be anything you want when you grow up. You know that, right?” you ask giving him a serious look. “I know,” he says absently before stroking the box of crayons. With a sigh you say, “I need to go ask Dean for a favor,” before kissing him on the head and leaving him with his supplies.

 


	12. Chapter 12

The door chimes as you and Dean walk into the diner. A long counter with cherry red stools stretches the entire length of the restaurant. Customers sit in vinyl booths leisurely eating hamburgers and fries. The entire floor is checkered and a neon jukebox sits in the corner. As you stand in the entryway absorbing the loud colors, a throwback to an earlier decade, Dean takes a seat at the counter and orders a coffee.

Confused, you stare at him until he subtly points at a man in a white paper soda jerk cap punching numbers into a register. Walking towards a large display case filled with pies, you stand in front of him and wait for him to acknowledge you. When seconds pass you interrupt, “Excuse me, I am new in town and was wondering if you are hiring?” in the most pleasant tone you can muster.

“Dishwasher or waitress,” the man asks, absorbed with the receipts.

“Dishwasher,” you answer.

He pauses and glances up at you noticing your long wavy black hair and pretty face. “You’ll make more as a waitress,” he says dropping his eyes to the register. You sigh, the smile disappearing from your lips. Annoyed, you glance at Dean and wonder if he is listening.

“Cash tips too,” the man adds.

“Fine,” you say clenching your jaw.

He abruptly stops and stares at you blankly. You offer him a weak smile and he shouts, “Addie, get this girl a uniform,” to the young woman refilling Dean’s coffee. “You start tomorrow,” he states returning to the slips of paper. You linger until you realize he has nothing more to say and finally make your way towards Dean. He pulls out a five-dollar bill from his wallet and sets it on the counter.

Addie returns with a bundle of yellow and white. “Uniform and apron,” she says brightly before introducing herself. “I am Addie,” she proclaims while her eyes land on Dean expectantly.

“I am Amor. This is Dean,” you offer.

“Nice to meet you, Amor. Dean. See you tomorrow,” she says cheerily. You clench the fabric tightly as you and Dean walk towards the exit.  Addie’s eyes trail after Dean watching while he holds the door open for you and the two of you walk towards the Impala.

The ride to the diner was strikingly silent and you conceal your surprise when Dean asks, “What do you need a job for anyways?” while easing out of the parking lot.

“For Sam,” you answer vaguely, staring out the window watching the small town pass by.

“Sam?” Dean questions.

“For college,” you tell him turning towards him expecting him to scoff and insist Sam will join the family business. To your surprise Dean’s expression becomes pensive and he is silent. “Sammy’s a smart kid,” he finally says and you watch him carefully wondering if Dean ever had a choice.


	13. Chapter 13

After the diner, a truce forms between you and Dean. Occupied with school and your new job, the three of you fall into an easy routine. At your insistence, Dean drops Sam off at school, takes you to work and then heads to class. The evenings are filled with dinners, some from the diner and others homemade, but always marked with the question of whether John will be home. And pie, Dean loves pie and you laugh at the satisfaction your small gesture brings him.  

For you and Sam, John’s presence is a welcomed disruption, from tucking Sam in at night to picking you up after your shift. Flirtatious banter leads to stolen rushed moments and eventually slow languid kisses. A precarious happiness settles in your chest. The type that wakes you in the middle of the night gasping for breath and drenched in icy perspiration, a shame and betrayal.

On a cold sunny morning you slip your parka over your uniform. The dress is flouncy and yellow with a white collar and two rows of buttons. The color flatters your golden-brown complexion and you wear your hair in a high ponytail tumbling down your back in loose waves.  Sam emerges with his backpack and you kneel down making sure he has everything. Dean appears and the three of you make your way towards the Impala. John is gone, but he assured you he would be back soon, which has prompted significant badgering from Sam. Your seatbelt not even buckled, Sam begins, “What if he isn’t back in time?” petulantly.

“He said he would be back in two days,” you answer.

“What if he says no?” Sam insists.

“Sammy,” Dean interjects. “I will talk to John about the carnival but right now we have to wait,” he says firmly. Sam slumps his shoulders and although you would never take him without John’s approval, you can’t resist the urge to comfort him. “It will be okay, love,” you say gently.

As the Impala pulls up to the grade school you turn towards Sam, “Have a good day!” you say cheerfully.

“I will. Bye Dean. Bye Mom,” Sam says absently as he exits the car.

Your blood freezes and chills run up your skin. Mom. The word destroys you. Wide-eyed, you glance at Dean noticing his knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel.

“Dean,” you begin.

“What the hell was that?” he interrupts angrily.

“I would never tell him to call me that,” you insist.

“You are not Sam’s mom!” he shouts.

Shock turns to anger. “You think I don’t know that? Of course he isn’t mine,” you yell as the car approaches the diner. “I am sorry he called me mom, but I won’t apologize for loving him. I wouldn’t expect you of all people to ask me to,” you shout before slamming the passenger door shut.


	14. Chapter 14

Walking into the diner, you shed your coat and jam it on the coat rack. Addie watches you tie your apron around your waist before glancing at the Impala.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” you insist taking a deep breath while you grab a pot of coffee. “More coffee?” you ask a regular before accidentally sloshing liquid over the rim. You apologize profusely and reach for a towel. Soon the lunch rush overshadows your earlier argument.  The sky begins to darken and you place a carry out order and untie your grease stained apron. When the Impala pulls up you climb into the passenger seat and ask “How was your day, Sammy?” with a smile. Sam launches into a detailed recounting of his day and you glance at Dean noticing the tense lines around his eyes and determined set of his jaw.

Minutes later you walk into the house and ask Sam to wash up before dinner. Setting the brown paper bag on the kitchen table you stare at Dean. “I overacted,” he admits.

“What was her name?” you gently ask.

“Mary,” he answers. “And she would be happy Sam has someone to look out for him,” he adds.

“You are a pretty great big brother,” you agree.

“I wasn’t talking about me,” he responds.  

“I know,” you laugh. “It is true though,” you say with a sincere smile.

Suddenly you hear the front door open. “John!” you greet, immediately noticing his dark expression. “Is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly.

“Everything is fine,” he answers.

You give Dean a confused look. “I am going to go change,” you announce before walking up the stairs. Halfway up you turn and silently mouth, “Carnival,” to Dean.

No longer in your uniform, the four of you sit down for dinner. Dean takes a bite of his fry when Sam exclaims, “Did Dean ask you about the carnival?” in an excited tone. Your back stiffens as you watch John glare at Dean before taking a long sip of his beer. “Was this your idea?” John asks confrontationally.

“No, sir,” Dean answers his eyes falling to his food.

Sensing the tension you interrupt, “It was my idea,” resting your hand on John’s arm. “I thought it would be fun…” you trail off.

“I’ll think about it,” John says tersely.

Dinner finishes in awkward silence and you watch John drink beer after beer. After tossing the containers in the trash, you take a long shower and walk downstairs to start a load of laundry.

The sound of John shouting stops you mid-step, “Don’t ever call this number again,” he yells slamming the phone down.

“John? Is everything okay?” you ask for the second time tonight.

“Everything is fine,” he barks. “We are moving. Soon,” he says roughly.

“But Sam and Dean are enrolled in …,” you begin.

“It’s not up to you,” he spits out.

“Okay,” you say softly taking a deep breath watching John carefully.


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning you find Sam at the breakfast table. “Amor! Dad said we could to go to the carnival tonight. We are picking you up after work,” he exclaims. “That’s great,” you respond wondering if John told him about the move.  

“Let’s get going,” John urges, unexpectedly walking into the kitchen. You rinse Sam’s bowl and help him with his backpack before grabbing your coat. After dropping Sam off, John says, “I will pick you up after your shift,” barely looking at you.  

Hours melt into one another and soon you are rubbing your sore back waiting for John. As the three of you walk towards the fairground, neon strobe lights flash, children shriek and the scent of fried dough clings to frosty air. Sam looks around in wonder. “I will go get tickets. Stay here,” John orders.

Preoccupied, you soon realize Sam’s hand is no longer encased in yours. Searching the area you shout, “Sam?” just as John reappears. “Where’s Sam?” he demands angrily.

“I don’t know! He was here a second ago!” you plead.

 “SAM?” John bellows racing further into the park.

Desperation ravages you as you scan every face in the crowd. “Sam! Where are you?” you scream. An icy gust sweeps through the grounds. Stuffed animals, tickets and winter hats are swept up in the current and you notice a man dragging Sam towards the parking lot. “Sam!” you shriek pushing your way through the crowd. Suddenly John appears and punches the stranger in the gut before wrenching Sam away.

“Amor!” Sam screams and you scoop him up into your arms. “It’s okay. You are okay,” you whisper as he sobs against you. You hold him tightly closing your eyes as tears overwhelm you. “I am here. You are safe,” you repeat trying to calm your racing heart.

Sam is abruptly ripped away from you. “Amor,” Sam cries reaching for you. Crushed, you watch John in disbelief. “How could you let this happen? You were supposed to watch him!” he shouts.

“John … I...” you begin pathetically. “Please,” you beg watching John carry a hysterical Sam to the truck. Seconds turn into minutes but for you time stops as you stare aimlessly at the parking lot.

“Miss? Was that your son?” a police officer asks. Numb, you turn noticing the small crowd of bystanders. When you hear a low rumbling you turn back towards the parking lot and see Dean rushing towards you.  

“Dean! I lost Sam and he was almost kidnapped,” you sob hysterically. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he says pulling you into his arms. “It’s not okay! He could have been hurt …” you ramble. “He is at home, Amor. He is safe at home,” he assures you. “I came as soon as I realized John left you here,” he says stroking the back of your head. Anguish pierces your heart. 


	16. Chapter 16

**2001**

You sit at a vanity in your grandmother’s house while she plaits your hair into a thick braid. Gazing at the mirror you realize your chubby cheeks, the baby fat you carried as a child, have disappeared. In their place high cheek bones, wide eyes and full lips stare back at you. “Will you braid my hair on my wedding day?” you ask. Her hands freeze hovering over your head before resuming their weaving.

“ _Mija_ , your wedding day isn’t for another year,” she chides, eyes fixated on your black tresses.

You glance at her reflection in the mirror noting her smooth chestnut skin, deep penetrating eyes and black straight hair streaked with white.

“What will it be like?” you inquire staring at her impassively.

She sighs, “One week after your eighteenth birthday we will go into the forest at midnight and you will pledge yourself to the Dark Lord,” she says concisely.

“And will he be my husband?” you question.

“He will protect you. He will provide for you and most importantly you will have immeasurable power. A wife in his coven of witches,” she responds evading your question.

“And we will be a family?” you ask with a furrowed brow.

“There are different types of family,” she says peculiarly.

“Will I have children?” you probe.

“ _Maldita sea_ , Amor, we talked about this,” she says, her eyes flashing at you in annoyance. “You are the Cursebreaker. My mother and her mother before her were weak-willed women, falling in love with mortal men and defiling themselves, but you will commit yourself to Satan and erase our blemished past. Our transgressions will be forgotten,” she says huffily.

“Will the Dark Lord love me?” you push.

“ _Love que love_?” she says throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Mortal men will destroy you. Fleeting affection until their fickle hearts turn and their lying and cheating leaves you broken wishing you were dead. Begging for it. To love is a curse,” she shouts, her voice rattling the glass of the mirror.

“And the love of a child?” you finally ask.

She clenches her jaw and stares up at the ceiling. “ _No seas pendeja,_ Amor _._ Offer yourself to him and spare yourself the pain. Don’t make the same mistake I did,” she whispers before her hands find their way to your thick hair and she resumes her weaving.


	17. Chapter 17

You stare out the window of the Impala as Dean eases into the driveway. Save for John’s study, the house is quiet and dark. “Come in,” John’s gravely voice orders. You stand in front of his desk while he unzips a small canvas duffel bag. Minutes pass before he asks “Did you talk to the cops?” not bothering to look up. 

Perplexed, you respond “What? No!” watching him with a confused expression.

“Good,” he says curtly, opening a desk drawer. “Amor, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for Sam and Dean,” he says before grabbing a gun. John’s expression is grim and as your eyes dance over the revolver you slowly realize he plans on finding the stranger who tried to abduct Sam. “They are all I have left and will always come first. I’m sorry,” he apologizes. Your heart fractures and try to ignore the ache in your chest. For reasons you don’t understand the hurt is painful but shallow.

“I understand,” you whisper staring at him sadly.

“Good. I will be back in a few days,” he says before leaving, never once looking at you.

The next morning you convince Dean to call Sam’s school and tell them he is sick. Dean decides he suddenly doesn’t feel well and after you beg the diner to switch you to the night shift, the two of you go wake Sam.

“Hey sleepyhead,” you say softly brushing the hair from his forehead.

“Amor!” Sam shouts wrapping his arms around neck.

“I thought we could spend the day together,” you tell him as you pull him into a hug.

“Dean too?” he asks.

“Yeah me too, Sammy,” Dean says with a smile, glancing around the room in embarrassment. 

After breakfast Sam decides he wants to watch cartoons and drink hot chocolate. While Dean turns on the television, you rummage through the pantry and find a bag of marshmallows. Ripping the bag open, you pop one into your mouth. “Can I have one?” Sam asks.

“No. Sorry they are all mine,” you tease with a smile before eating another.

“Hey! Don’t hog them all,” he shouts lunging for the bag. You dodge him easily and he begins chasing you around the kitchen while laughing. 

“Mmmm so good,” you taunt, running into the living room.

“Dean! Get her!” Sam yells.

Your eyes widen in surprise as Dean tackles you pinning you to the sofa. “Gotcha!” he shouts his arms caging you. Breathless you smile up at him. He stares, transfixed by your soft flush mouth, his face inches from yours. Suddenly, Sam grabs the bag and you laugh, pushing Dean off and chasing after Sam. 


	18. Chapter 18

A popular hangout for truckers and teens, the diner is busier than you expected. You anxiously glance at the clock before sliding on your parka and grabbing three garbage bags. At this time of night, Dean would have been forced to leave Sam sleeping to come pick you up and you were supposed to get off work twenty minutes ago. The dumpster lid slams shut and you jump, startled at the sight of a man lingering by the employee entrance. “Excuse me,” you tell him trying to get passed.

“Haven’t seen you around,” he responds blocking your path.

“I have to go,” you insist.

“What’s the rush?” he asks taking a step forward trapping you. You stare at him as fear floods your body. All of a sudden he is tugging at your uniform ripping the buttons and lifting the skirt above your waist while you are pinned against the dumpster.  

“No. Please,” you beg faintly, a strong breeze carrying your voice. In the distance, a car door slams and in an instant Dean is standing behind the stranger. “Let her go,” he orders.

“Keep moving,” the stranger warns not bothering to look over his shoulder. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I said let her go!” Dean shouts lunging for the man. Your assailant strong arms Dean back before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a gun. “I said keep moving,” he threatens, aiming the gun at Dean. Forgetting the heavy hand pressed at the base of your throat, you stare at the gun and reckless desperation seizes you. John would kill you if Dean got hurt. “Stop. I will do whatever you want. Don’t hurt him,” you demand staring at your attacker.

“How about a little of both? I shoot your boyfriend in the stomach and he watches me rape you,” he sneers. Panic turns into anger and in seconds wind begins to whip trash in the air like a cyclone. Rage courses through your veins like ice fracturing across a frozen lake and your hands begin to shake. “Well aren’t you a blue eyed beauty?” the man says and suddenly your hands are gripping his forearm freezing his skin. He pulls away from you clutching his black dead arm. Without hesitation, you reach for his face watching as his skin crystallizes turning into solid ice, his scream frozen in a grotesque black mask. When he falls to the ground Dean notices his black skin and stares at you. Dean walks towards you and you quickly close your eyes backing painfully into the dumpster.  

“Amor look at me,” he says.

“No,” you sob.  

“Amor! Look at me!” Dean shouts.

You shudder at the anger in his voice. “I can’t,” anguish tearing the words from your lips.

“Amor,” he whispers gently cupping your face in his warm hands running his thumbs over your cheeks.

When you open your eyes he sees the most startling electrifying blue eyes staring back at him.


	19. Chapter 19

**October 31 st 2002**

Dressed in a thin white shift, you and your grandmother journey into the forest. An incandescent moon bathes the clearing revealing six cloaked figures standing ominously still in a semicircle. Your trepidation escalates until you are paralyzed, left with only the pounding of your terrified heart. Suddenly a man in a black frock appears and wordlessly nods to your grandmother. Staring at him with wide eyes, you are completely taken aback when soaring red flames shoot from the ground in an arc creating a deafening roar. Materializing from nothing, the Dark Lord stands in front of you. He is eight feet tall with the head of a goat, torso of a man, and cloven feet. His dead eyes drill into you, an eager groom with his matted pelt and thick rubbery lips.

“Shall we begin?” the frocked man calmly solicits as the flames shrink to a low burn. You take a step backwards and in response the cloaked figures step forward in unison. Turning towards your grandmother you find her with her head bowed.  “Is this the price you would have me pay?” you beseech choking on your fear. She glances up at you and says nothing, her face a mix of terror and uncertainty. Grief rips through your body,  “Was I such a burden? A mistake?” you entreat. She closes her eyes tightly before whispering, “Run,” as treetops explode catapulting sharp bark and flakes of leaves.

Darting into the copse, branches lash at you leaving thin red cuts. When you stumble over your dress, you glance over your shoulder and see only burning red. Scared and running blindly through the forest your breath is a cloudy mist, cold sweat soaks your dress and your legs burn. A loud crack sends a tree careening towards the forest floor blocking your path. Without warning the hooded figures flank the Dark Lord while he shoves your grandmother to her knees. “You would break your vow?” a guttural voice asks from spit covered goat lips. You stare at your grandmother questioningly as despair claws at you.

“You were the best of my life,” she confesses.

Before you can respond a scream escapes her lips as red flames consume her. You gag at the smell of melting flesh and cover your nose with your arm. Tears flow down your cheeks while you watch her skin turn black withering before your eyes.

“I will never join you,” you cry.

“Leave her to die,” the Dark Lord orders and suddenly ropes are snaking across your wrists binding you to a tree. Your screams fall on deaf ears as the Dark Lord and his handmaidens vanish. Cries turn to sobs and you realize you are forsaken. Unbeknownst to you, when your frenzied raving commences and the wind and frost seek to rob you of life, anguish takes root and the elements, unable to extinguish your thready pulse become yours to summon.


	20. Chapter 20

Astonished, Dean stares at your glacier blue eyes. The wail of an ambulance siren brings him back to the present. You silently beg him to say something, but instead he locates a tarp and quickly wraps the body.  “I am going to get the Impala. Stay here,” he orders.

After hoisting the body into the trunk, Dean drives to the forest and the two of you drag the body into a grove. As you walk back fluffy snowflakes begin to fall from the sky. “I wasn’t always like this,” you begin cautiously. “I think something happened to me in the forest,” you say softly.

“What the hell were you doing out there anyway?” Dean asks angrily.

Sorrow pierces your heart and you watch the snow twinkle as it drifts to the forest floor. “My great grandmother married a mortal man,” you say slowly. “She broke her promise to the Dark Lord and instead fell in love and had a child. Every generation since has debased themselves, turned their back on the Dark Lord and given birth to a baby girl. I was to be the Cursebreaker. The one to erase our wrongdoings,” you reminisce.

“I am guessing that didn’t happen,” Dean says.

You clear your throat, “No. I refused and the Dark Lord set my grandmother on fire in front of me and left me in the woods to die,” you say sadly. Minutes pass and you are grateful for the silence. “I think when I didn’t die, the ice and cold somehow became a part of me,” you say embarrassed staring intently at the powder snow. Determined, you push onward, “That is why you can’t tell John. He is a hunter. It won’t matter that I refused the Dark Lord. All he will hear is witch, powers, dead man. He will shoot first and ask questions later,” you say hastily unable to keep the urgency from your voice.

“You know?” Dean asks.

You pause realizing you unwittingly revealed you know John is a hunter. “Yes,” you answer and the revelation renders Dean speechless. Almost at the car, you realize Dean hasn’t told you he won’t tell John.

“He would never let me near Sam,” you say your voice breaking. Dean gently tilts your face towards his, relieved to find chestnut eyes staring back at him. When his cell phone rings, he stares at the number before answering, “Hello? This is he,” before he closes his eyes in annoyance. “I will be right there,” he says after a long pause. Confused, you watch him tuck the phone into his jacket. “It’s John. The bartender called saying if we don’t come pick him up they are calling the cops,” he says with an exasperated sigh. “Come on,” he says grabbing your hand as you follow him into the dark night.


	21. Chapter 21

 “We need to stop by the house,” you insist as you slide into the passenger seat.

“What? What are you talking about?” Dean asks turning the key in the ignition easing onto the dark two-lane road.

“We need to check on Sam. It will only take a second,” you explain.

“Amor, we need to go get John,” Dean argues.

“Dean, we have been gone for almost two hours! If Sam woke up he will be alone and scared!” you yell.

“Well he needs to grow the hell up!” Dean shouts.

“Dean! He is just a little kid,” you scold, staring at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, well I was a lot tougher when I was his age and trust me life with John wasn’t roses,” he barks. 

“Dean …” you begin. You stop midsentence. It never occurred to you Dean’s childhood would have been as lonely as yours and far more difficult.  Pushing the thought aside, you continue, “Please. It will only take a second and then we can go get John together,” you entreat. The car idles in front of the house, “Go. Check on Sam,” Dean says. You waver, watching him pull out your assailant’s gun and place it in the glove compartment. Climbing out of the Impala, you race to Sam’s room and find him sleeping soundly. Silently rushing back downstairs, you open the front door only to find Dean gone.

When blinding headlights appear in the driveway you unlock the front door and step outside. Dean helps John out of the Impala when suddenly John throws him to the asphalt.  “John!” you hiss, trying not to wake Sam.

“Coming to get me! Telling me I have had enough!” he shouts. He kicks Dean and you yell, “John! Stop it!” before he grabs Dean by the jacket slamming him against the blacktop. He balls his fist and you close your eyes unable to watch.

A bitter breeze pulls your hair loose and frost fissures through your veins as you begin to lose control. Frantic, you watch John pummel Dean and realize you can’t get close enough to stop him. Sprinting towards the Impala you fling the glove compartment open and grab the handgun. “Stop it,” you shout aiming the gun at John with both hands. John freezes finally noticing you. “Get away from him,” you demand, removing the safety.

“Amor…” John says stepping away from Dean with his hands raised. Your eyes never leave his as you reach for Dean hauling him to his feet. Pushing Dean behind you, the two of you walk backwards into the house. “Sleep it off John,” you order before quickly bolting the door. You set the gun down and fear and relief crash into you. You wrap your arms around Dean and he pulls you to his chest as your tears soak his jacket. 


	22. Chapter 22

Dean strokes the back of your head and you inhale deeply realizing Dean’s jacket doesn’t have the same scent as John’s. Although they share the similar aroma of leather and soap, Dean’s also smells like coffee. It reminds you of late nights in the kitchen drinking coffee and eating apple pie. Wrapped in his arms, warmth and calm begin to return to your body. “Amor?” Sam’s sleepy voice calls from the top of the stairs. You step out of Dean’s embrace and wipe your eyes. “Hey Sammy. What are you doing awake?” you ask softly as you climb the stairs, hoping he doesn’t notice your tear stained cheeks.

Tucking Sam back into bed, you stroke his hair, reassured when he tells you he woke from a bad dream. As soon as he falls back asleep you find Dean dabbing at his face with a wet kitchen towel. Taking the towel from his hands, you lead him to the kitchen table and gently push him into a chair before reaching under the sink for the white metallic first aid kit. Pulling out strips of alcohol and gauze, you inspect Dean’s injuries. Standing between his legs, his warm green eyes gaze up at you as you lightly press a piece of gauze to his cheek. Freckles dust his nose and his stubble is turning into a faint beard. Reluctant to break the peaceful silence, you ask, “What are we going to do about that?” nodding towards the gun.

“We can’t keep it in the house. Sammy might find it. You should hang onto it,” Dean urges. Wetting a piece of gauze with alcohol, you wonder whether Dean is worried John will seek you out or if he knows John also has a gun.

“I can’t. Besides, I am not exactly helpless,” you whisper, reluctantly recalling being pinned to the dumpster and the frozen black arm.  Dean catches your hand as you bring it to his forehead, “Hey. I am not going to tell John,” he says softly and you nod in response. “Let’s put it back in the Impala. Sam won’t be able to get his hands on it,” you say stoically. “He is going to be upset when he sees your face,” you hint.

“That bad, huh?” Dean asks and amidst the grazes and bruises he smiles. A grin tugs at your lips and you shake your head amazed at his resiliency. As you continue to disinfect his cuts, he says, “Take Sam to school tomorrow and then get yourself to the diner. I will look for John,” in an unyielding tone.

“Look for John?” you ask. “He should be sleeping his bender off in the Impala …” you ramble pointing to the driveway. “You don’t know John very well,” Dean says with a laugh, except this time a sad smile graces his face. 


	23. Chapter 23

Staring at your alarm clock, you decide to find Dean. “Let me drop Sam off at school and we can go together,” you insist, sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed. “After what happened yesterday you need to show up for work,” he says. “You are so stubborn,” you mutter as you rise to leave. He gently pulls you back towards the edge of the bed running his thumb over the back of your hand. “Be careful,” you whisper sadly caressing his bruised cheek. 

Excited to ride shotgun, Sam slides into the passenger seat. You quickly hide the gun in the trunk before opening the driver side door and staring inside warily. After adjusting the bench, you shift the car in reverse and gradually ease out of the driveway.

In the middle of the lunch rush, you drop off four plates of burgers and fries and the phone begins to ring. “Joe’s Diner,” you answer reaching for a notepad. “Hello Amor,” John greets. Your heart beats violently in your chest. “Hi John. What can I get you?” you ask casually.

“What I want to know is how you got those baby blues?” he probes.

“I can explain. Maybe we can we talk about it at home?” you respond, glancing around the diner.

“No. You are going to meet in the warehouse district. We are going to have a chat,” he demands.

“Okay,” you lie.

“Oh and Amor,” John begins. “I found the body. And I also have Dean,” he threatens.

“Let me talk to him,” you order. 

“Amor! Don’t it’s a tr—" Dean shouts before the line dies. Your hands shake as you set the phone back down on the receiver.  You rip off your apron and grab your coat running to the Impala. Fifteen minutes later, the principal finally lets you leave with Sam after finding your name on an emergency contact form. “Come on, Sammy,” you urge carrying his backpack, rushing towards the car.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks.

“This is really important,” you begin as you buckle him into the front seat. “If you and Dean were in trouble, who would you call?” you ask. 

Sam scrunches his face, “Uncle Bobby!” he says enthusiastically. “And what is Uncle Bobby’s last name?” you question.

“Singer,” Sam answers in a singsong voice.

“And what does Bobby Singer do?” you entreat.

“He lives in a house with a lot of junky cars!” Sam shouts.  

“You are wonderful,” you tell him, kissing the top of his head.

Soon it is dark and you are driving in the middle of a thunderstorm. Sam is asleep when you pull into the junkyard, cars stacked ominously high in a maze. Weaving your way towards a small house, you climb out of the Impala and grab a groggy Sam shielding him from the rain. Raising your fist to knock on the door, you are greeted with the barrel of a gun. Your eyes involuntarily turn blue as you stare at the grizzled old man in a trucker hat. “Uncle Bobby?” Sam asks dripping rainwater as you stand waiting for him to shoot you in the chest. 


	24. Chapter 24

When Bobby saw a female grab an unconscious Sam out of the Impala, he reached for his shotgun. What he discovered was Sam clinging to a woman with jet-black hair and eyes the color of ink. Staring at the shotgun, her eyes transformed into sapphires and a white razor blade appeared in her left hand.

“What are you doing with Sam and where is Dean?” Bobby growls.

Sam tightens his grip on your neck, “Dean is in trouble,” you respond. “It’s alright love,” you reassure Sam. When lightening cracks overhead, the blade you didn’t know you were holding sinks into the wall across the room. You stand shocked as Bobby inspects the trail of melted water before touching the sharp ice dagger.

“We should probably talk,” he says, lowering the gun. Finally setting Sam on his feet, Bobby returns with towels and you strip Sam’s coat off before drying his hair. “Sammy you remember where your clothes are,” Bobby says motioning for him to go change. Bobby takes your coat and while alone you inspect the thawing shard of ice. 

“So you ain’t human,” Bobby states. 

“Dean is in trouble,” you repeat. 

“Pieced that together when you rolled up in the Impala with Sam clinging to you like a spider money,” he says. “Tell me everything,” Bobby orders leading you to a small kitchen.

“John found me in the woods, abandoned and tied to a tree,” you say evenly. Unable to see Bobby’s face you decide to continue. “He offered to let me stay with him and the boys. Things were fine and then he changed. Drinking more, shouting on the phone, overprotective. Last night he beat Dean in the driveway of our house,” you wince.

“John and Dean have had their fights before…” Bobby begins.

“John took Dean,” you interrupt. “He called me at work and told me to meet him. He said he had Dean and when Dean got on the line he tried to warn me,” you insist.

“Warn you about what?” Bobby asks skeptically.

“I couldn’t get John to stop hitting Dean so I pulled a gun on him and my eyes did … the thing,” you trail off.

“And how exactly do your eyes do the thing? And I am guessing the icicles of death are new?” Bobby asks sarcastically.

You sigh, exhausted as your hair drips down your back. “For generations the women in my family have been cursed. Brides for the Dark Lord, they break their vow, marry mortal men and have children. I was supposed to end the cycle. Pledge myself to the Dark Lord and when that didn’t happen, they burned my grandmother alive in front of me and left me in the woods to die. John found me and I realized I had changed,” you explain.

“Why not just kick you out?” Bobby questions.

You swallow, “I was at work and a man attacked me. When he threated to shoot Dean, I killed him. His face is now a frozen black mask. Dean and I hid the body, but John found it,” you explain.

“So John knows you are a killer,” Bobby says.

“When things were good, before John changed and I didn’t know I had powers …” you begin awkwardly. Bobby stares at you wide-eyed. “It was nothing,” you whisper blushing.

“Balls,” Bobby sighs.


	25. Chapter 25

After deciding he had heard enough, Bobby sent you upstairs to find dry clothes. Rummaging through a musty dresser, you find a black t-shirt and worn flannel. Tucking the t-shirt into your jeans, and sliding the flannel over your shoulders, you slip on thick socks and lace your boots. When you hear voices downstairs, you grab a towel and dry your hair while walking towards the study.

“Amor, this is Jody,” Bobby says with his hands in his pockets. You stare at the woman silently as you continue to squeeze the excess water from your hair. She has brown hair, large brown eyes and wears a police uniform. 

“You can stop glaring at me now,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh. “I have a son at home. Sammy’s going to be just fine,” she adds crouching down in front of him. “Aren’t we Sammy?” she asks with a smile.

“Do you have games?” Sam questions.

“Lots of them,” she says with a grin. She stands and puts her hand on Sam’s shoulder giving it a squeeze. Your eyes narrow distrustfully in response.

“I asked Jody to watch Sam while we take care of this ... family drama,” Bobby explains.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Jody asks.

“No! It’s just an old friend ... don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Bobby backtracks. “Amor and I can handle it,” he assures, rubbing the back of his neck. “Almost ready?” Bobby asks. You toss the towel onto a chair and kneel down in front of Sam.

Sam runs into your arms and you cradle him close to your chest. “I love you,” he whispers. “I know,” you answer. “I am going to get Dean. I will bring him back. I promise, Sammy,” you say softly. He nods and you kiss the top of his head.

Bobby grabs a duffel bag, readjusts his hat and soon the two of you are in the Impala tearing up the road hurtling towards Dean and John. “What’s the plan?” you shout over the pounding rain.

“Best stick to the truth. You came to me, told me some sob story and I brought you back to John,” he says scanning the wet glittering pavement.

You cross your arms over your chest with an exasperated sigh.

“Do you trust me?” Bobby asks unexpectedly.

“You pointed a shotgun at my chest,” you reply.

“You threw an icicle into my wall,” Bobby snaps.

“After you pulled a gun on me. And Sam,” you insist.

The silence stretches on.

“Practice that ice dagger thing,” Bobby orders.

You clench your jaw and focus on the frost in your veins. As you open and close your hand a blade of ice appears. In your palm it is harmless, but the edges glint menacingly. “I know I am not the first choice for a rescue mission,” you say absently as the blade appears, disappears and then reappears.

“I don’t know about that Ice Queen,” Bobby says glancing over at your midnight eyes, jet-black hair and determined expression. “Wouldn’t bet against you,” he mutters as the Impala roars in the night.


	26. Chapter 26

Bobby’s fingers dig into your forearm as he slams the door to the warehouse open. “Lose something, John?” he shouts shoving you into the abandoned building. You stumble and your knees scrape the glass and dirt scattered across the concrete floor. John stands with his back to you staring into an enormous furnace. The heat is stifling. Unbearable. Dean is tied to a chair, his face a battered mess of purple and yellow. His right eye is swollen shut and you can’t tell if he is breathing. Your heart pounds in your chest and fear floods your veins but in the suffocating heat, it is a cold river instead of a freezing torrent.

“She showed up on my doorstop peddling some story,” Bobby continues. Sweat pools at your temples and John finally turns towards you. He is flushed and his eyes dart around the room. He jerks your chin up before slapping you across the face. Rage takes hold and your eyes radiate glacial blue. “There she is,” he whispers with a smile. He hauls you to your feet and pushes you towards the empty chair next to Dean. Careful to avoid your skin, he restrains you with a thick rope.

“So what’s the plan?” Bobby asks warily, eyeing Dean as John walks towards the stove. 

Sweat collects at the base of your throat and you clasp and unclasp your hands frantic when the dagger of ice doesn’t appear. Wide eyed you glance at Bobby as John picks up an iron poker from the fire. Terror renders you speechless and you uselessly thrash against the restraints.

The scorching hot poker is inches from your neck and in an instant everything is black. All you can see are the red flames engulfing your grandmother, burning her alive. Her screams echo in your head and you can smell her skin melting. A fate you realize will soon become your own if you don’t act. Suddenly you feel the weight of the ice dagger in your hands and quickly slice through the dense rope. Gasping for breath, your vision returns and you see John and Bobby grappling on the floor. Rushing towards Dean, you crouch down in front of him gently patting his face. “Dean. Dean, please wake up,” you beg cutting away the heavy rope.

You glance over your shoulder and see John punch Bobby in the jaw before Bobby hits him in the side. You wrap Dean’s arm around your shoulder trying to lift him to his feet. He groans and manages to stand as you try not to stagger under his weight. Sparing John and Bobby another glance, time stops when you see John aim his gun at Dean. Bobby reaches for the gun, but you know he won’t knock it away before John pulls the trigger. The blood in your veins freezes surging with ice as you step in front of Dean directly in the path of the bullet.


	27. Chapter 27

Searing pain pulsates in waves from the bullet trapped inside of you. The metal feels molten, poisoning your blood like fire spreading through your veins. A faint wailing in the distance grows louder as your eyes flicker a glassy black and you fall forward desperately reaching for Dean.

From the gritty warehouse floor Bobby hears the gunshot seconds before you and Dean tumble to the floor. With John momentarily stunned, Bobby punches him in the jaw finally knocking him out, eyes widening at the sound of approaching sirens.

xxx

“Her name is Amor Miranda”

“Young female. Gunshot at close range”

“Her birthday is October 24th 1999”

“No sign of an exit wound. Prep the patient for surgery”

“You have to save her”

“Sir, please step back. We are doing everything we can,”

xxx

The heat is sweltering. A blistering oven where you are being burned alive. Without warning you sit up in the hospital bed gasping desperately drawing air into your legs. Immediately detecting the needle piercing your skin, you rip the clear tape off before jerking the IV out of your arm. Flinging the hospital blanket off, you stumble to the floor.

“Amor! Amor!” a voice calls abruptly grabbing you by the shoulders. The tile is cool against your bare legs and you find yourself staring into Dean’s mossy green eyes.

“What happened?” you cry before he crushes you against his chest. You clench his shirt, closing your eyes tightly finding the cool spot between his neck and his shoulder.

“You were shot. The bullet didn’t exit your body. It would have hit me if it had. The doctors said at that range it should have hit your organs but it never made it that far. It was shallow at best. They don’t know how to explain it,” he rambles.

“Where is Sam?” you ask anxiously. 

“He is still with Jody. You have only been here two days,” Dean assures. You take a deep breath, “Dean, please get me out of here,” you plead. Quickly scanning the room, Dean helps you to your feet. He grabs your parka and hands you your boots. Sliding them on, you dry your tears before stealthily following him down the hallway. Soon the frigid night air kisses your skin and you close your eyes savoring the invigorating current. Pulling the long parka around your hospital gown, Dean clasps your hand as you walk towards Impala.

Sliding behind the wheel, Dean hesitates. “Amor there is something you should know,” he begins.

“What is it?” you ask.

“The police showed up at the warehouse. Bobby tried to smooth it over, but they arrested John. Bobby has been trying to see him. He thinks John is possessed,” Dean says staring at the steering wheel. You sigh gazing at Dean’s faded bruises and don’t know whether to pray John is possessed, the alternative too painful to consider.

“Dean, let’s go home,” you say sadly reaching for his hand, realizing that for you wherever Sam and Dean are is home.  


	28. Chapter 28

Lights glow from inside Bobby’s house and a cop car sits parked in front. Dean unlocks the door and you find Sam helping Jody wash dishes. “Amor!” Sam shouts. Smiling, you bend down and hug him, “Hey Sam,” you sigh. “Thank you,” you say glancing at Jody.  

“Not a problem,” she responds and the front door opens. Bobby walks in with a drained expression.

“Hey Amor,” Bobby greets nodding his head.

“Bobby,” you answer.

Dean rests his hand on your back, “Amor, why don’t you catch up with Sam? And change,” he says. “I will be up soon,” he insists.

“Let's go, Sam. Tell me what I missed,” you hum leading him upstairs.

“Owen and I had a sleepover! He collects pennies. I showed him my rocks,” Sam gushes.

“Love, aren’t your rocks at home?” you ask.

“All our stuff is here now. This is your room!” he informs you. “Dean wouldn’t leave so Bobby had to go. He called Dean an idjit,” Sam rambles. You walk into a small bedroom and you find all of your clothes hanging in the closet.

“I see,” you say softly.

“You look tired,” Sam interjects.   

“I am. I need to scrub the hospital smell off of me,” you say wrinkling your nose. Sam laughs and you scoot him out of your room. “I’ll be fast,” you claim. 

Fifteen minutes later, you stand with your back to the mirror in flannel shorts and a gray hoodie. Arranging your damp hair over your shoulder, you lift your hoodie to your chest scrutinizing the wound above your hip. Transfixed by your marred skin, you faintly hear the bedroom door open. “I’ll be right out, Sam,” you shout. Suddenly Dean is in the reflection and you realize he is standing behind you.

“Dean,” you say startled, quickly pulling your hoodie down.

“Those stitches should be dressed,” he lectures rummaging through cabinets pulling out a dented first aid kit.

“Come on,” he urges leading you towards the bedroom. Sitting on your bed, he begins tearing medical tape with his teeth. “Lift your top,” he orders ripping a pack of gauze open. “They want to put Sam in foster care," Dean begins his fingers gingerly affixing a bandage to your torso.

“They can’t,” you insist.  

Dean gently lowers your hoodie covering your bare mid-drift gently resting his hands on your hips, “Bobby is petitioning to become his legal guardian, but CPS might think he is better off with a family. They’re interviewing us tomorrow,” he says.  

“Us?” you ask.

“Bobby told them you were my girlfriend. It was the only way he could explain how protective you are of Sam,” Dean rationalizes.

Panic floods you, “Dean …. I …,”

“Hey. It’s okay,” he interrupts. “Stick to the truth as much as possible. They are more interested in Bobby,” he says staring up at you.

Your voice breaks, “They can’t take Sam,” you whisper.

“I won’t let that happen,” Dean assures.

“Swear it,” you insist.

“I swear,” he promises and you believe him. 


	29. Chapter 29

_Interview Notes – Bobby Singer_  

Q1: How do you know John Winchester?

I met John after Mary died. He was in bad shape, but he found a group of people to rely on. The boys would stay with me every now and then. They have bedrooms here. Taught Dean how to throw a football.

Q2:  How do you feel about Amor?

Amor and I didn’t hit it off right away. She took a bullet for Dean though and that’s enough for me. She is teaching me to redecorate.  

Q3: How do you plan on supporting Sam and Dean?

This junkyard might not look it, but it’s operational. Dean has a knack for cars. I get by more than okay on my own. We’ll be just fine. 

_Interview Notes – Sam Winchester_

Q1: Tell me about Bobby

Bobby is the best! He helped me find rocks for my collection. He taught Dean about cars and he is going to teach me when I am old enough. When we stay with him, he makes us chili and he has tons of old books.

Q2: How do you feel about Amor?

I love Amor. We play in the snow and drink hot chocolate. She always makes sure I have everything for school in the morning. She told me I can be anything I want when I grow up. She gives me hugs and tucks me in at night.

Q3: What happened at the fair?

I was tired of waiting and I saw a fun house. I walked over and a strange man told me he was a friend of my dad’s and I had to go with him. Then my dad punched him and I was so scared. Amor told me it was okay that I was safe. Dad took me home. Dean had to go get her. 

_Interview Notes – Amor Miranda_

Q1: How did you meet Dean? 

John found me in the woods. I was out there too long and needed help. He brought me home. I met Sam and then Dean while I was recovering.

Q2: Tell me about the fair

It was my idea. Sammy wanted to go to the carnival. We were waiting for John to get tickets. One second Sam’s hand was in mine and the next it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes. I wanted to die.

Q3: How do you feel about Bobby?

I trust Bobby with my life. We didn’t get along right away. He has issues with what I did to his entryway.

_Interview Notes – Dean Winchester_

Q1: Tell me about Bobby

Hell, Bobby is great. He is better than John in some ways. It’s probably always like that though. Your parents are harder on you. They’re always the bad guy. Bobby just let us roam the junkyard. He expected us to be good people. Always do the right thing, but he let us be kids.

Q2: How do you feel about Amor?

She is beautiful, loyal, smart. I remember this first time I saw her. She was still recovering from being out in the woods, but she was radiant. She ate breakfast with Sammy and I could barely string two words together. When she got better she asked me to take her to find a job. All of the money she makes is for Sam for college. I don’t deserve her.

Q3: Do you fight in front of Sam?

No. Amor always puts Sam first. That is what I love about her.


	30. Chapter 30

“Can I talk to you in private, Mr. Singer?” the social worker asks. You glance at Dean as Bobby leads her to the study.

“Sammy, how would you like your first car lesson?” Dean asks.

“Yes!” Sam shouts jumping in the air.

Alone, you sit on a counter in the kitchen. The door to the study opens and footsteps fill the hall. “Send me those statements and we will make it official,” she says while Bobby walks her to the door.

“I appreciate it,” Bobby responds, shaking her hand. Bobby walks into the kitchen looking for Sam and Dean.

“What did she say?” you ask.

“She wants to see Singer Salvage Yard financials. Said we can come by tomorrow,” he answers crossing his arms over his chest.

You rest your head against the cabinet and close your eyes. Relief surges through you, “Sam and Dean are in the garage,” you say evenly.

“Planning on making a run for it?” Bobby probes.

You stare at Bobby wide-eyed, “You don’t understand…” you begin.

“Knew I liked you,” he retorts shaking his head while making his way to the front door.

xxx

The next morning you wake up blinking at the ceiling of your new bedroom. The door creaks and suddenly Sam is jumping on your bed. “Amor! Amor!” he shouts bouncing on your mattress.

“Sam!” you scold.

“You can’t just barge into my room,” you laugh watching him spring higher. “We are going to have set boundaries,” you warn.

“Boundaries?” he asks standing on your bed. 

“Yes. Boundaries,” you respond seriously before tickling him under the arms.

He shrieks and tries to wiggle away from you as you continue to tickle him. In seconds your door slams open and Dean rushes in followed by Bobby. “The hell is going on here?” Bobby demands. “You two are going to give me a heart attack,” Bobby hollers. 

“Sam, go get dressed,” Dean orders. 

You give Sam a half smile as he shuffles out of the room. “Since the four of us can't exist on chili alone, I am going to the grocery store before we head downtown,” Bobby informs you.

“I can do that, Bobby,” you volunteer. “I was going to go anyway. I thought the grocery store might be hiring,” you explain clearing your throat.

“No diner?” Bobby asks.

“No,” you say firmly meeting Dean’s alarmed gaze. “No diner,” you repeat.

“Alright then. List’s on the kitchen table. I invited Jody for dinner so you can expect her to come by,” he says turning towards the stairs. Dean lingers in the doorway. “Is that okay?” you ask.

“Hmmm?” he responds.

“Can I borrow your car?” you say hesitantly.

“Oh. Yeah, I will leave the keys on the table for you,” he says glancing awkwardly around your room before closing the door behind him. You lay back in bed and stare at the ceiling wondering when your luck will run out.


	31. Chapter 31

The winding labyrinth of wrecked cars leading to Bobby’s house has become a welcome sight. With the Impala full of groceries, you grab a brown paper bag. As you walk towards the front door, you detect a slight movement from the garage and hesitate before deciding to investigate. Socket wrenches litter the workbench, car parts are strewn across the floor, and tires are stacked in corners, but you only see John and the gun in his hand. With his shirt stained and ripped, white peppers his beard and his dark eyes are penetrating. 

“John,” you whisper clutching the grocery bag to your chest. 

“Do you know what’s in this gun, Amor?” he asks. “Witch killing bullets,” he responds not waiting for you to answer. 

“I’m not a witch,” you protest.  

“Oh, but I think you are. I found the man you killed. His face cracked into a million pieces,” he taunts.

Bile rises in your throat at the thought of frozen chunks of flesh. “He attacked me. He was going to kill Dean,” you insist.

“That’s another thing,” John says waving the gun in the air. “I think you poisoned my boys against me,” he adds.

Shaking you beg, “John, I would never … Sam and Dean love you. I cared about you,” you entreat taking a step forward.

“And we will all be better off with you dead,” he concludes.

Apples roll across the grimy garage floor when you drop the bag of groceries. Before you can sprint away, John grabs you by the hood of your parka. You vehemently writhe away from him and then slip out of your coat racing towards the house.

“Amor?” Jody questions, her police car parked next to the Impala.

You give her a terrified glance just as John storms out of the garage. He raises the gun, removes the safety and aims at you. Your arms arc forward in a movement that is pure instinct. A bracing shock surges within your cells as ice begins to materialize in front of you. Like tributaries joining to form a lake, a frozen slab stands suspended in mid air. John’s image is blurry, but gunshots ring out and you see two bullets lodged deeply in the ice. To your right Jody shouts, “Police! Put the gun down,” pulling her gun from her holster. You grimace as power pulses through your fingertips and the shield thickens absorbing two more bullets.

Jody fires and John is hurled backwards. The ice falls to the ground breaking into pieces and you run towards John. Conflicting emotions war inside of you. You clutch John’s shirt as blood gushes from his chest. “Damnit John. Why did you do this?” you cry shaking him. “Call an ambulance!” you scream to Jody.

“This is Sheriff Mills. I need an ambulance at Singer Salvage Yard ASAP,” she orders over her police radio.  

“John stay with me,” you beg covering his wounds with your hands. “You can’t go. Not like this,” you sob covering his body with yours.


	32. Chapter 32

John’s body rests atop the funeral pyre Bobby constructed. Orange and red flames lap at the white shroud and you wonder if the blaze will devour everyone you care about. Standing in silence next to Bobby, you glance at Sam and Dean. Transfixed by John’s burning corpse, men and women huddle in groups behind the brothers. After John’s death, hunters descended on the house to pay their respects. While they traded stories and shared memories you made plates of sandwiches and went on countless beer runs. Staring at Dean’s fierce expression and the sadness in Sam’s eyes the words unsaid are a weight on your chest desperate for release. The flames begin to die and the crowd disperses walking back towards the house. When Sam and Dean turn to leave, you clench your fist resisting the urge to clasp Sam’s hand.

As you near Bobby’s house your eyes widen at the sight of Jody’s cruiser. You haven’t seen her since the day she shot John. Casting a furtive glance at the house filled with rowdy hunters, Dean approaches Jody cautiously. You trail behind him wondering what is taking Bobby so long.

“Jody,” Dean greets curtly.

“Dean... This looks like bad timing,” she admits eyeing the noisy brightly lit house. “I just wanted to come by and tell you I am so sorry for your loss,” she says sincerely.

“Jody, I know you mean well but right now I think it’s best if you leave,” he answers.

Jody notices you standing behind Dean. “Amor we should to talk,” she maintains.

“Now isn’t a good time,” you reiterate. “I will stop by tomorrow,” you add hoping she understands not to return unannounced. Jody nods and returns to her vehicle quickly reversing out of the driveway.

“She didn’t have a choice,” you tell Dean.

“Are we still talking about Jody? Didn’t seem like you went out of your way not to provoke John. You could have run and hide or ...” Dean shouts.

You close your eyes, “Don’t do this,” you beg. The wind tugs at your locks and they float in the breeze. You stare into Dean’s vibrant eyes. “I never understood how pledging my life to the Dark Lord would break the curse until I met you. When I lost Sam at the fair I wanted to die. I would have given anything, done anything, to find him safe and sound. I love Sam so much I want to protect him from all of the horrible things in this world, but I can’t and it is terrifying. The night John beat you in our driveway, I realized I could lose you. I realized I love you and I wish I didn’t but I do, so please don’t push me away because I will always come back. That is my curse,” you sob.


	33. Chapter 33

The sounds of conversation, laughter and clinking beer bottles drift into the dark night creating a cacophony. You stare at Dean as your confession unfurls in his mind. The realization that you will always defend him, bandage his wounds and love him. A love unending, without conditions and with little regard for yourself. The remnants of anger linger in his gaze. Bitterness, resentment and guilt churn inside of him and in the pain that is a wound still raw and gaping, he is unable to voice that he loves you too.

The unspoken words trigger a sharp ache in your chest, like electrical wires overlapping creating a volatile current. Clenching your jaw, you wipe away fat tears and dry your hands on your jeans. Sniffling, you compose yourself as Bobby approaches, grateful for the thin sliver of moon.

“We need to talk,” Bobby grumbles staring at you. You nod, leaving Dean outside while you follow Bobby into the house. You immediately look for Sam and find him on the sofa between two burly hunters. One of them is animatedly recounting a hunt with John and the rest of the group is listening intently. Before you can send Sam to bed, he turns towards you. The sadness in his eyes has vanished and he smiles brightly.

You follow Bobby into the study and he closes the doors before reaching into the desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two short glasses. “When you came to me and told me what John had done, I assumed he was possessed,” Bobby begins. Confused you watch in silence as he pours the amber liquid into two glasses. “I didn’t want to accept that John was capable of those things,” he says bringing the glass to his lips, motioning for you to take one before swallowing a large gulp. You clasp the glass in your hand inspecting the liquid. “It took two seconds to figure out John wasn’t possessed,” Bobby explains. You take a small sip, the liquor scorching your throat resulting in a fit of coughing. Despite the burning sensation you continue to grip the glass watching Bobby skeptically. “Dean told me you were trying to see him. I thought it would take longer,” you rasp.

“I made it seem that way because John told me something about you, about your grandmother,” Bobby clarifies before tossing back the remaining whiskey. You stare at him hard eyed. Unease plucks at you and you swallow the contents of your glass wiping your mouth before you succumb to another fit of coughing. “What did he say?” you insist setting the glass down with more force than you intended.

“Your grandmother is alive. The Dark Lord took her and she is being tortured,” he says unflinchingly.

“Where?” you demand.

“She’s in Hell,” Bobby answers.


	34. Chapter 34

You watch as Bobby’s mouth continues to move, his voice a distant buzz. Struggling to draw air into your lungs, your breathing becomes a shallow staccato of gasps. Black dots pepper your vision before the lack of oxygen brings you to your knees. Your hands find purchase in the carpet. Gripping the fibers tightly, your fingers turn white as rage releases inside of you. You convulse as ripples of frost surge through your veins, pulse through your fingertips and crystallize the threadbare carpet. Digging your fingers deeper into the rug an anguished cry is ripped from your throat. The stained brown carpet is becoming smooth shiny ice.  Hair falls in your face as you glance up at Bobby with a feral expression, eyes glowing neon blue. You watch him extend his hand towards you before screaming, “Don’t touch me!” afraid of what your powers might do to him.

The door slams open, “Close the damn door, you idjit,” Bobby shouts. 

You bring your forehead to the polished ice and close your eyes. The biting cold pulls you from your shock. Inhaling deeply you stand staring at Bobby with an austere expression. “I’m sorry,” you apologize.

“Should have given you more whiskey. Not every day you find out a relative is stuck in Hell,” he grumbles reaching for the bottle pouring two more generous portions of liquor. Bobby extends the short glass towards you before reconsidering and setting it on the edge of the desk. You pick it up lightly, relieved when it doesn’t turn to ice. You toss the whiskey back grateful for the burn. He scans the ruined carpet and then looks at you suspiciously. “You’re going after her,” he says with a resigned expression. You stare at him. “I have to try,” you whisper. 

“You aren’t doing this alone,” Dean says from over your shoulder.  Turning towards him you swallow the lump in throat. His eyes are glazed and you wonder if he has been drinking too. You close your eyes blocking out his clenched jaw and determined expression. 

“No,” you order the words at odds with your traitorous heart. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Bobby rebukes.

“You aren’t a part of this,” you tell Dean.

“Bullshit. You don’t want me to go. Why?” Dean demands.

“Because I can’t protect you and Sam needs you!” you fire back. Dean states at you with an exasperated expression. “This is not a discussion,” you stress before reaching for the study door and stepping into the hall unconcerned with concealing the damage in the study. You walk out the front door, past the funeral pyre and push deeper into the forest. When you find a clearing you sink to your knees ignoring the wet leaves clinging to your pants. The tears come quickly as you curl into yourself and violent white snow covers the woodland. Hours pass and after finding yourself once again broken and alone in the forest you rise determined to descend into Hell.


	35. Chapter 35

As the sun begins to rise, you uncurl your stiff body and shower. Twenty minutes later you are dressed in jeans, a fitted black sweater and boots. You find Bobby alone in the kitchen making coffee and frying bacon. “Bobby, can I talk to you in private?” you ask. He moves the skillet off the burner, wipes his hands on a dishtowel and leads you outside to the garage. A crisp wind cuts through your layers and you shiver trying to block out memories of John lunging at you.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask what you know,” you begin.

“You mean before you turned my study into a skating rink?” Bobby retorts.

“I can replace the carpet,” you apologize.

“Always trying to get me to redecorate,” he mumbles.

“What?” you ask with a confused expression.

“After you went all blue eyed on John, he summoned a demon. Tortured her until she told him about your grandmother,” Bobby explains.

“Is my grandmother still alive?” you inquire hesitantly.

“According to the demon. Rufus is going to drive you to Chicago. There is a specialist there. He can get you into Hell,” Bobby volunteers.

“How?” you ask skeptically.

“He is going to stop your heart. You will have about five minutes,” Bobby sighs.

“How am I supposed to find my grandmother in five minutes?” you ask angrily.

Bobby doesn’t respond and instead tugs at his collar.

“Oh. You think the Dark Lord will find me,” you say softly. “How am I supposed to get her out?” you question.

“Ask nicely?” Bobby suggests. “Rufus will drive the two of you back,” he adds.

“You seem very optimistic,” you say, jaw clenched.

“Money’s on you Ice Queen,” Bobby says seriously.

“I told Jody I would stop by,” the statement hanging in the air between you.

“Trust Jody,” Bobby says before walking back to the house.

You soon follow and as you enter the kitchen Sam runs up to you, “Amor!” he shouts. You kneel down and pull him into a hug, “Morning Sammy,” you greet eyeing the hunters eating breakfast. Dean silently watches you while drinking a cup of coffee. “How would you like to see Owen?” you ask Sam. “Yeah!” he shouts his face brightening.  

“I could drop you off if you need a ride,” a young blonde hunter interjects. “I am Zach,” he says standing as he introduces himself. You can feel Dean watching you as you mentally recall the last 48 hours. The guilt of telling him how you feel and the resolve to keep him from accompanying you to Hell weigh heavy on your chest. 

“It is the least I can do in return for all the sandwiches you made,” Zach adds.

Deciding you both need space you respond, “That would be great. We will be ready in ten,” with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You usher Sam upstairs, Dean’s gaze following your every step.


	36. Chapter 36

You tuck Sam’s hand into yours as you knock on Jody’s front door. Jody answers, “Amor! Sam! Come in” with a surprised expression. 

“Hi Jody,” you reply. You help Sam remove his jacket before he races to Owen’s room. “I hope it’s okay I brought him,” you say hesitantly.

“Of course! Come in. Coffee?” she asks. You nod before following her to the kitchen. “Take a seat,” she insists. You realize you are gripping Sam’s coat tightly and try to relax. She sets a mug down in front of you. “Thank you for coming,” she acknowledges. 

“I am sorry about yesterday. Dean is still upset,” you explain.

“Understandable,” she agrees. “What I am more interested in is how you managed to make a shield of ice suspended in mid air,” she says staring at you.

You press your lips together. “I wasn’t always able to do that. It’s new. I am discovering lots of new things about myself,” you say with an uncomfortable laugh.

“I am guessing this self discovery happens when you are in danger,” she suggests.

You nod. “Back where we used to live… there was a man and he cornered me. Dean tried to intervene but…” you trail off shaking your head.

“I see,” Jody says sympathetically.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say evenly.

“No, I don’t expect you did,” she says neutrally. Seconds pass in silence. “I haven’t told my husband about John,” she admits. “We try and keep them safe. We make sacrifices, some that they will never know about,” she says with a sad eye roll.  

“We do what we have to,” you whisper. 

“We do what we have to,” she repeats with a sigh. 

xxx

You walk into the house and Bobby calls you into the kitchen and introduces you to Rufus. “So you’re the Ice Queen Bobby keeps going on and on about,” Rufus comments.

“Her name is Amor,” Dean growls.

“I know her name! Just getting her accustomed to some friendly banter seeing as we will be riding to Chicago together,” Rufus says defensively. 

“I will go pack,” you say excusing yourself.

Minutes later the door to your bedroom opens and you sense Dean standing behind you as you pack. “Five minutes,” you say breaking the silence.

“What?” he asks. 

“I will be dead for five minutes,” you clarify.

“A lot can happen in five minutes,” Dean deliberates.

You smile recalling the first time you met Sam, a small child offering you his blanket. And Dean, his gorgeous older brother with a booming voice and scowl to match. In those few seconds your life was destined for a course none of you could have predicted. “I will see you in two days Dean Winchester,” you tell him. His heart rips into pieces watching you leave not knowing if you will come back alive, but sure that if you don’t he will regret the words hovering on his lips.  


	37. Chapter 37

Rufus had no reservations about making you drive. When cornfields turned into highway and highway turned into concrete jungle, you woke him.

“Rufus,” you call giving him shake.

“Damnit, I’m awake!” he says gruffly, glancing at the storefronts with Chinese symbols. “Chinatown,” he explains while pointing to a parking lot near the elevated train. Soon the two of you are walking passed a fire station and into a restaurant. The hostess leads you to a stairwell and you climb the stairs in silence before entering a small apartment that has been haphazardly converted into a doctor’s office.

A grizzled man in cargo pants with his shirt half-tucked into his pants shakes Rufus’ hand. The man gestures for Rufus to take a seat on the examination table. “Not me. Her,” Rufus clarifies. You skeptically watch the doctor while he grinds herbs in a mortar and pestle. He adds a pinch of crushed powder before finally scraping it into a dirty glass. You grimace when he adds water and watch the particles dissolve. He hands you the glass and you bring it to your lips, barely noticing when he begins his stopwatch.  

You feel weightless. With your entire body light as a feather, Chicago is miles away. Finding yourself in a clearing, you scan your surroundings while clenching and unclenching your fist. After feeling the reassuring weight of the ice blade, you notice a figure in the distance. Squinting, you see black hair streaked white and your heart pounds in your chest. You sprint towards your grandmother, feet skidding as you kneel next to her. “ _Abuela_ ,” you urge shaking her while watching the dark horizon. Without notice, the earth shifts, rumbling as the grass turns into craggy black rock. Molten lava streams passed and when your grandmother groans you pull her to her feet.

“He knows,” she coughs.

Suddenly, the Dark Lord stands in front of you, encircled by his coven. “Amor. Finally,” he rasps.

“We are leaving!” you shout, your voice never betraying your terror and uncertainty.

“You aren’t going anywhere!” he howls as a ribbon of lava arcs towards you.  

“You can’t stop us!” you yell. 

“Then perhaps I will invite the Winchesters for company?” he taunts.

Your heart stops and you stare at him disbelievingly. “You wouldn’t,” you whisper.

“You’re pathetic,” he laughs.

Wrath surges through your body laying waste to your terror. Your glowing hands spasm with rage as a glacial wind blows across the boiling badlands. “Pathetic? You left me to die and when death had me in its grip, I would not relent. No, I lived and wind and frost are now mine to command,” you assert. “Hurt my family and I will destroy everything you have built. I will pull it apart brick by brick. Rivers will turn to deserts and men will be no more and still I will not yield,” you threaten stretching your hands outwards sending frozen daggers into four handmaidens. “I will be your shadow. Your nightmare. I will never stop. I will never submit,” you menace sending two more ice razors in the air. The gust becomes a storm and the cerulean glow spreads to your entire body. “Hell, once a barren wasteland ruled by a Dark Lord will be a frozen tundra ruled by an Ice Queen,” you vow as lightening cracks. “So I ask you, is it worth it?” you question.

Surrounded by the bodies of his wives, the Dark Lord watches you. The movement is minute, but when he raises his hands and fire swoops towards you and your grandmother you meet it with ice. Screaming, frost shoots from your palms battling the blaze. Grimacing, visions of Sam, Dean and Bobby float past as the ice begins to overwhelm the inferno and you release a final cry. In a heartbeat, you are on your back staring at a starry sky. When your grandmother groans next to you, you realize you are no longer trapped in Hell. You are in a forest in Sioux Falls.


	38. Chapter 38

You help your grandmother to her feet and smooth back her tousled hair. “Amor,” she rasps, her voice dry and grating as if she hasn’t spoken for one hundred years. For all you know her time in Hell could have felt like one thousand years, but right now you need to get her out of the elements. Scanning the forest, you wrap her arm around your shoulder and the two of you begin to hobble towards Bobby’s house. As you pass through the clearing, the site of Bobby’s junkyard feels like a dream, a wonder you ever made it out of Hell alive. You hear the front door slam and Bobby’s voice rings out over the yard, “Boy, get back here!” he shouts standing on the porch next to Sam. Dean is sprinting to the Impala and in his haste he has yet to notice the two figures approaching.

“You going to drive all the way to Chicago like some hothead?” Bobby asks. Dean yanks the door open when suddenly his gaze is pulled to the edge of the driveway and he sees you and your grandmother limping. A pained expression flits across your grandmother’s face as she leans against you heavily. Your jeans are singed, face dirty and palms raw. Dean stands frozen next to the Impala as you approach, realizing your eyes are piercing blue with no sign of returning to their normal sable.

Bobby, following Dean’s gaze, whispers, “Balls,” before running down from the porch towards you. “Amor, quien son esta genta?” she hisses. “Mi familia,” you whisper as before Bobby stands in front of you wide eyed with his mouth open. “You made it back,” he says glancing between you and your grandmother. “I made it back,” you confirm.

“Bobby meet my grandmother, Doña Esperanza,” you introduce. Bobby continues to stare at your grandmother before quickly swiping his hat off his head. When your grandmother groans he lunges for her, shouldering her weight. “Let’s get the two of you inside,” he says leading her slowly towards the house.

Your heart cramps at the sight of Bobby leading your grandmother towards the house. Suddenly Sam is hurtling towards you and you brace yourself as he launches into your arms. “Amor,” he cries as you grip him tightly to your chest. You cup the back of his head gently whisper, “Hey Sam,” desperately trying to reign the torrent of emotions battering against your chest. When he has finally calms you set him on his feet, “Want to meet my grandmother?” you ask softly taking his hand in yours. As you begin to lead him back towards the house, your eyes meet Dean’s and the anguish is like an electric current crackling against your heart.  “Why don’t you go on ahead, Sammy?” you urge, your eyes never leaving Dean’s, “I need to talk to your brother,” you insist gently nudging him towards the house.

Dean stands next to the Impala frozen as you approach him. “You are mad,” you state meeting his hardened gaze.

“You went to Hell!” he shouts.

“It wasn’t your fight,” you repeat with a determined expression.

“Stop. Just stop,” he says exasperated, running his fingers through his hair. “Stop saying this isn’t my fight. You took a bullet for me. When are you going to realize you don’t have to do this alone?” he asks angrily.

“I was alone for a very long time,” you say firmly recalling your frenzied raving, bound hands and endless cold.

“Well you aren’t anymore. I love you. I don’t care if that means we go to Chicago, or Hell or Mars. Where you go I go and if that means we fight our way out, drag ourselves out, we do it. Together. I won’t do this alone. I can’t do this alone,” he urges with a coiled nervousness. You watch him curiously as if every cell in his body is pulsing with energy.

“I need you,” he confesses.

Your eyes snap to his and he takes a step closer and you inhale the familiar scent of leather, coffee and soap. “Kiss me,” you whisper and in seconds he lifts you onto the Impala and pulls your hips towards him. His mouth is demanding and you clutch his shirt as his fingers gently brush against your neck at odds with his crushing lips. You match his intensity pulling him closer your body buzzing. Minutes pass and when Dean rests his head against your forehead you close your eyes realizing despite the freezing pain and loneliness in the forest, the heartache and fear after John found you, and the terror of facing the Dark Lord in Hell, there was no part of you that had not emerged stronger.  

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I comment on my own work. There are some things that don't get included that I feel like make the story better. Plus I re-read my chapters like 5000x times and am probably crazy. It's kind of like talking to yourself right ..


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